


look and see her eyes, they glow

by monzi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monzi/pseuds/monzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little pieces of the Bucky of old walk through the door, and she meets the man he used to be.<br/>(Three short Darcy/Bucky drabbles)</p>
            </blockquote>





	look and see her eyes, they glow

**Author's Note:**

> This lil guy has been gathering dust in my laptop for months now, and today i finally gave up on trying to write the last part ://  
> Million billion thank-yous to AndroidPalindrome for the beta work!! (read her works or die)  
> Keep in mind my english is mostly self taught, so if you catch any slip-ups neither AP or I caught, let me know!! <3

He is quiet and reserved, almost shy and bordering on meek. He reeks of nervousness when conversations shift from work to personal, and is overcome by anxiety when surrounded by stranger, becoming all tense muscles and tight-lipped frowns, ready to jump at the nearest perceived threat. When nothing horrible happens, he melts into shock and relief. Such traits are not what she would expect from a man who has maimed and killed in the defense of both his life and hers.

He is a far cry from the charming smiles and the smug looks she’s seen in history books and museum displays. He is the ghost of Bucky Barnes, but she refuses to think of him as a lost cause.

* * *

He doesn’t like to be called Bucky. It is the name of a person he doesn’t remember being.

But sometimes, on very rare occasions, she sees doors to the past opening. When he is relaxed enough he can stop being the Soldier, if only momentarily; when it’s just the two of them, or when it’s been so many sleepless nights (“It’s nothing,” he says, when she expresses her concern, and tells her he’s never spent this long out of stasis, that he “just needs to get used to it.” She knows bullshit when she sees it, but doesn’t press, because doesn’t need verbal conformation to know that it’s the nightmares keeping him up) that he becomes lost in a haze, one foot in the past and one in the present.

It’s during such moments that little pieces of the Bucky of old walk through the door, and she meets the man he used to be: he calls her ‘doll’, he makes crass jokes, and there is a shit-eating smirk on his face she so badly wants to kiss (and she’s not looking deeper into those urges, no sir). This is the person he was, once—the one who grew up piss-poor in Brooklyn, a ladies man, the best friend to Captain freaking America, and a (dead) war hero.

But then the door is closed again (but not locked, not anymore), and his blue eyes are haunted and dark, but a shade lighter than they were before.

* * *

 James’ knowledge of the modern world is focused, mostly, on weapons and how to use them. Darcy finds this unacceptable, so she makes it her business to teach him all there is to know about society in the 21st century. First class: Technology and Social Media (and the relation between them). Darcy tries her best, but he’s no Straight-A student.

(Of course, there are the things he already knew, was required to understand as an agent of HYDRA. But it’s not like he had time to ponder on how different the world was every time he was pulled out of stasis).

First off, he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that phones are so small, people can carry them on their person at all times (and they do!). But it’s not all terrible because there are microwaves, and automatic stairs, the blessing of air conditioning in hot summer days, computers, and the credit cards Darcy loves so much.

Of the few memories he’s regained, he remembers Howard Stark and his promise of flying cars. But he sees none of those around, so James figures that never came to be.

When he’s just getting used to pressing the _tiniest_ buttons he’s ever seen on a machine (if you can call a flat screen that. And why are there so many buttons, really?), he finds phones aren’t just phones anymore.

Apparently, there is now a fancy new _thing_ called the Internet—with a capital I—and every electronic device on Earth seems to be connected to it.

It proves to be just as useful as it is confusing, and when he asks Darcy how it works, how all that content seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once; she simply calls it a ‘miracle of science’. It’s more like witchcraft, he tells her, and she laughs (he revels in the sound of it and the fact he was the cause of it in the first place).

She tells him about sites like Twitter and Facebook. He can’t imagine why anyone would inform the whole world of their every move and every daily activity, but to each their own. YouTube is a pit of cat videos and people making fools out of themselves and he’s not touching Tumblr with a ten foot pole, but Google is a gift.

He’s still confused about many things, but television is in color now, so that’s a plus.

 


End file.
